


A Lot Like Home

by Not_You



Series: A Gentleman of Negotiable Virtue [4]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Breakfast, Erik can cook, Feels, M/M, guava juice, mention of past sexual harrassment, mention of shaw's general racist/sexist assholery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-25
Updated: 2012-11-25
Packaged: 2017-11-19 11:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/573036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik fetches his stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lot Like Home

Done showering again, Erik finds himself at loose ends and near panic. Making breakfast serves to ground him. Enough of his mother's beloved nagging memory remains for him to not eat pig when he can avoid it, but there are organic chicken sausages right next to the bacon, so he starts those on the assumption that a man who lives alone (or nearly so, he's mentioned a sister who comes and goes, staying or absenting herself for months at a time) doesn't buy groceries he won't eat. Since he needs another task and there's an old baked potato sitting nearby he makes hashbrowns as well, and has just put down toast when Charles comes in, blinking at the sudden abundance.

"Sorry about how low all the surfaces are."

"It's not so bad. How do you like your eggs?"

"Over easy, please." Still looking dazed, he rolls to the fridge and pulls out one of the five kinds of juice.

"And what are we drinking?" Erik asks, not turning around and suddenly flashing back to his parents, his mother frying latkes at the stove and conversing with his father without looking. It puts a slight lump in his throat..

"Oh. Well, I was going to have guava, but there's—"

"I saw them. Figured I'd let you pick, since I don't dislike any of them." And it's all so fucking normal. He searches himself for symptoms of shock as he finishes cooking and fixes two plates, but doesn't find any. This worries him, because if he feels right now as if killing Sebastian had been inevitable, how in the hell is a jury going to see it? He can't even deal with Charles. It's as if the man is trying to see how much kindness and generosity Erik can take before he breaks. Erik sits down and lets his favorite regular pour him guava juice over ice and tries to ride out the vertigo. Charles thanks him for making breakfast, and they eat in pleasant silence until Charles clears his throat.

"I hate to have to bring it up, but…'

"Yes?"

"Well, I've called my lawyer on your behalf, so you'll need to talk about the case with her."

Erik nods. "Who is she?"

"Emma Frost."

Erik nearly spews his juice across the table. He swallows hard instead. "I may have to pay her fees in installments."

"I'll pay them and you can pay me when you have it."

Erik just stares for a moment before thanking him again, the words totally inadequate. Charles just blushes. "You've… you've been very good to me, Erik. You've always gone above and beyond professional standards for me, and I like you."

"I like you, Charles. I hope you know that. I've always been polite to clients I don't like, but I don't give them a bonus fifteen minutes to nap at no cost, nor do I carry them up and down the stairs when the elevator is out."

Charles blushes, and it's as good a look for him as everything else is, his beauty merciless. "I was and am very grateful for that, Erik."

He smiles. "You're light to carry." It's an unintentional allusion that almost makes him blush too, but he catches himself, feeling strange and ridiculous and strained and weirdly happy.

"Thank you." Charles suddenly giggles, then puts his head down on the table and laughs. "Oh god," he says at last, "this is so surreal."

"I know. I still have to get my stuff, if you don't mind harboring it for a bit."

"Oh, not at all. You've seen the amount of space I've got."

"Thank you. I have the feeling I'll be saying that a lot in the near future."

"I can consider it said, if you like." He smiles softly and Erik's heart skips a beat.

He cleans up afterward and accepts a house key and cab fare because he doesn't know how to drive Charles's modified cars (yet), and makes his way back to the scene of the crime. This is surreal in the worst fucking way instead of the best, but at least he was already planning to leave. Azazel helps him load his bags, and Angel tells him she'll totally testify about the time Shaw put his hand up her skirt and she had to punch the fucker. He had laughed that off, but hell, if his mood had been different she might've had to be the one to take him out. Erik thanks her for her consideration, and the cabbie for his unsolicited help with the baggage.

"Hey, man, I hate moving too. And I've heard about Shaw. My cousin said the only bad thing about going to Hellfire was having to stand in that cracker's office on the first appointment."

Erik rolls his eyes. "You have no idea how professionally embarrassing that always was. Your client comes in all ruffled, and you have to assure him that you don't share management's views. Real shrinkage for the business, all the free head we've had to use to soothe people into coming back."

The driver laughs, and closes the trunk over the last of it. "I'll bet. Back to the Xavier place, or do you have other errands to run?"

He's going to see about visiting Eli, but today is not that day. In the end he just has Darwin take him back to Charles's to set up. Along the way, he reveals his longstanding arrangement with Charles of being the one to come get him if he is at all realistically near. "I was the one drove him everywhere before he got his hand controls set up. He's a good guy."

"Yes. He is."

Darwin just smiles at him in the rearview mirror like he knows exactly how much Erik means by that.


End file.
